


The Time Fenton was lowkey flirted with by the Enemy

by One_lovely_little_idiot



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Gandra has an eyebrow piercing, Hero/Villain Dynamic, Queer Characters, Undercover Missions, Unresolved Tension, Women in suits, because fuck yeah, how does one tag, mostly just in energy but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27749410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_lovely_little_idiot/pseuds/One_lovely_little_idiot
Summary: Gandra just gives me big dick Bisexual energy and I can not change that. Might be a little ooc, I haven’t written either of these guys before.Loosely inspired by @spwangle’s sketches of Gandra Dee on Instagram.
Relationships: Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gandra Dee
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	The Time Fenton was lowkey flirted with by the Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Gandra just gives me big dick Bisexual energy and I can not change that. Might be a little ooc, I haven’t written either of these guys before. 
> 
> Loosely inspired by @spwangle’s sketches of Gandra Dee on Instagram.

Regardless of how many times Fenton heard Gyro insist that his titanium morals and self-sacrificial tendencies made him like a hero straight out of a comic book, Fenton couldn’t help wonder sometimes if he was always the best choice for the role. Especially in situations like this. 

He wasn’t even there as Gizmoduck, just regular Fenton posing as some wealthy businessman at a billionaire’s party, no ass-kicking or danger involved. Yet his newly ironed collar would not stop clinging to his neck and he couldn’t stop fiddling with sleeves as if anticipating someone to expose him on the spot. The plan was anything but complicated: just a simple infiltration, at a simple party, to find a simple Snow Bunting in a dark blue dress, and pass on a simple codeword to receive a simple card bearing their contact. He didn’t have to stay long, in and out. Simple, simple, simple. 

It did not feel simple. 

The guests around were donned in vibrant jewels and flashy metals meant to do little beyond than to display how easily they could throw money away, idly mingling with one another about whatever recent excursions they’d taken or whoever they’d have potential partnerships with. It was a place for the elite and the more elite still, so it was no surprise Fenton felt like an imposter among them. The fact he actually  _ was  _ an imposter as well wasn’t helping much. But they’d needed someone who wouldn’t be recognised, which ruled out everyone living or in employment in Scrooge’s house, Gyro who’d already been pasting his face on the label of every invention he’d made in the last ten years, and of course a headless man-horse would be nothing but conspicuous. 

Fenton had been the clear choice to everyone but himself, them seemingly forgetting that Fenton could not lie to save his life, even in the highly specific situation where he would have to convince a highly impressionable child of a mildly dubious fact he knew was actually a lie. 

The small crackle of static in his earpiece was reminder enough to not let himself be too overwhelmed and to stay on task. From his current position, idle by the edge of the dance hall, his target was nowhere in sight. He pried his collar from his neck for what felt like the hundredth time that night and moved into the open to find a better location. There was a drinks table not too far from where he already was, a place people would often be found visiting but never persisting long enough to create much traffic. It was the perfect place to find his target. 

Before doing that he figured a drink would help ease his nerves. He had one half poured (he was pretty sure it was something nonalcoholic but he wouldn’t bet on that) when someone addressed him from behind. “You seem a little out of your scene here, pal.” 

For a split second Fenton froze, fearing he’d been caught, before remembering that just because the worst case scenario was possible doesn’t mean it would always happen. He played it off casually. 

“I-I’m just not used to such large gatherings of people. Not easy on the—“ he turned and came face to face with somebody he hadn’t been sure he’d ever cross paths with again. “nerves…” 

Dressed in a fitted maroon suit coupled with a black dress shirt was Gandra Dee. She would’ve blended in perfectly with all the other high-ups around if it wasn’t for her own little grunge twists to her getup. An open tieless collar, her usual fingerless gloves, and an eyebrow piercing as well. It seemed she hadn’t initially realised who she was talking to, because as soon as Fenton turned to face her, her face dropped. “Oh crap.” 

Passing his initial shock, Fenton’s mind was racing between all the options of what he should do in this situation. Alert a guard she was a spy? But then she could reveal his cover too and his whole mission would be a bust. Should he engage in combat? Sure, just fight someone in the middle of a party Fenton, and with what weapon? He didn’t need to be rich to know fighting someone in public get togethers wasn’t exactly proper party etiquette. 

Gandra was quick to pull him by the arm away from the drinks table. Through her gloves he could feel the faint outline of her own body modifications, and was reminded this wasn’t just another spy, it was one who knew how to be crafty. She decided to play it as casually as you could while also speaking in a hushed voice, “If you pretend you never saw me then I’ll pretend I never saw you?” 

The Gizmoduck in Fenton jumped out. “Last I heard of you, you were a part of F.O.W.L. I can't ignore that.” 

Gandra gave a forced laugh. “What?  _ Nooo _ . That old secret organisation?” She dropped the act when she realised she couldn’t convince Fenton otherwise. “‘a part of’ isn’t what I would exactly call it. I’m an—“ 

“An independent scientist, I know. It’s just very hard to believe that when I keep getting presented with evidence of you being precisely not that.” 

Her hand found itself touching the back of her neck awkwardly. “It’s… complicated,” was the only answer she gave. 

Things always had to be complicated with Gandra Dee. She was a spy for Mark Beaks, but then seemed genuinely sad their date turned into a bust because of it. She used Gyro’s tech to turn the billionaire into a literal monster, but then she’d helped Fenton defeat him despite nothing forcing her to do so. She’d disappeared, but also solved Fenton’s equation for him. It could never be black or white with her, could it? 

“Stop looking at me like that, I’m not in denial.” 

Fenton sighed and found somewhere to place his drink. He was getting too caught up on the F.O.W.L agent, and reminded himself he still had a job he was there for. That would take first priority, then he would deal with Gandra after. His eyes finally found his target across the room. A Snow Bunting in a blue dress, standing by a guard near one of the exit doors. They impatiently glanced to a clock nearby then back to around the room. Fenton excused himself. “I have something I need to do.” 

Gandra followed his line of sight and her expression changed. “I do too, actually,” she said slowly. 

As Fenton wormed his way through the hall, he clicked the small button on his earpiece to send a message. Gyro was likely wondering about his status,and the presence of Gandra there meant there could be more agents hidden in plain sight. “One F.O.W.L agent present, potentially more ne—“ 

He was cut off when his hand was grabbed by someone from behind, and a tiny burst of electricity flashed by his ear. His earpiece cracked and fell apart in his hand. Before he could respond, Gandra was maneuvering her way around him and on a path straight for her mark. “Sorry suit, but that’s my target.” 

Fenton made a grab for her arm before she was beyond reach, successfully pulling her back. His grab had been a little too hard and Gandra ended up stumbling into his chest. She found her footing again though in doing so the two ended up into a certain position. Chest to chest, hand in hand, her other on his waist as his found itself on her shoulder. 

Fenton’s face burned like a candle when the closeness of the position dawned in. Gandra’s reaction was quite different, smirking as if there was a game to be won, and if getting Fenton flustered was the goal then she was already winning. “Usually you’re meant to ask the person before pulling them in to dance,” she remarked. 

Fenton reminded himself to stay focused. He didn't know if his message had been received so there was no certainty if he would receive any back up. He was on his own, which meant he couldn’t let Gandra Dee derail him. They were still posing as fellow guests at the party, and that meant causing any sort of scene could start garnering suspicion. 

Still in dancing position, he spun them around so he was the side closer to the target, and let go. “My apologies, Miss Dee. I’ll simply ask someone else—!” He was already walking away when he felt himself being spun around and pulled back. 

Gandra had pulled him back into the same position. She quirked an eyebrow with a new confidence. “Who said I didn’t want to?” 

Try as he might Fenton couldn’t just will his flustered behaviour to disappear, or the persistent blush to his face. His experience with being flirted with was next to none. He severely hoped Gandra wouldn’t notice how his hands were growing more clammy by the second, or how his heart was speeding up to paces that would rival race horses. 

As if on cue, the pianist began a new song, a slow tune that led to several other guests to find themselves dancing partners too. It wasn;t long until the party went into full swing, truly coming alive in the most conforming way possible under rich-people standards. Before Fenton could stop her, Gandra was pulling them both amongst them. Her head drew close to his ear, and her voice dropped to a whisper for only him to hear. “Try to keep up. You’ll stand out an awful lot if you don’t.” 

Fenton knew at once what she was doing, trying to expose his status as an invader so she could approach the target without any obstacle. Little did she know Fenton wasn’t a clueless idiot when it came to ballroom dancing either. 

Gandra took the lead, guiding them with the flow of the other couples dancing in a cyclical motion around the hall. Their steps were confident, working in tandem without any issues, yet amateurish and lacking the grace of professional dancers. It was passible, and that was really all they needed. The two spun closer to Snow Bunting. Gandra made a sudden move to break away and grab their attention, her efforts proving futile as Fenton pulled her back and moved them further along with the other dancers. They’d have to travel around the hall again before they’d come close to the Snow Bunting. 

His voice was stern. “Sorry, but I can’t let you win, agent D.” 

Despite her failed attempt there was still a smile along Gandra’s beak and a glint in her eyes, or maybe that was her eye circuits. “Right back at you, suit.” 

With their faces so close Fenton noticed a small black circle on her eyebrow piercing. “The piercing is a camera?” 

“A good agent doesn’t tell their secrets so easily.” 

The refusal to answer clearly was a confirmation in itself. He made a move as if to wipe something off Gandra’s face, and instead drew his thumb over the piercing to smudge the lens. “Whoops.” It wouldn’t stop the video, but even an inconvenience as small as a blurred lens could turn against F.O.W.L’s favour in the end. 

Gandra wasn’t amused by the sabotage. Her hand grabbed the corner of his collar to find a small bump that shouldn’t belong. Fenton feared trying to move her hand away would garner too much suspicion. Gandra gave a small gasp as if she’d only just noticed the hidden device now. “What’s that? A mic in your tie?” With a small spark she crushed it between her fingers and returned her hand to his side. “My bad.” 

They neared their target again, this time Gandra swiftly spinning them around before Fenton could catch the chance to get close. The move nearly threw him off balance but he managed to stay on his feet. An outsider would probably assume he was simply being clumsy on his feet, wholly unaware of the feud between the two. Fenton’s chance was missed once again as the tide of dancers moved on. 

Gandra spun Fenton again, just hard enough to cause him to stagger as he was pulled back in. “I’m surprised you’re keeping up so well.” 

“Well there’s always those awfully peculiar moments where knowing how to dance comes in handy. See example: right now.” 

“Makes me wonder what you’re not prepared for, suit?” 

Fenton smiled as he quoted her own words back to her. “A good agent doesn’t tell their secrets so easily.” 

Gandra’s expression changed as if she were accepting a challenge. The music swelled before dipping into a hush. In a swift motion Gandra’s grip became firmer before she spun Fenton again, this time dipping him to the floor. 

The guests of the party melted into nothingness. His mind was drawing blanks for what he was supposed to be doing. For the few seconds they remained like that Fenton swore his heart was thudding so loud Gandra could hear it too. Any reply he could muster died in his throat with a stammer. 

Gandra could only snicker at the reaction. “I think I’ve figured it out. So easily distracted.” 

“And I think I’ve stalled you just enough, now.” Gandra’s confidence dropped, realising she'd made a mistake somewhere. She followed Fenton’s line of sight back to where their target was, seeing Bentina Beakley dressed in her finest, talking to the Snow Bunting. After a quick exchange of words they passed the agent a small card, sealing their mission as a success for Fenton, and a defeat for Gandra. 

Now it was Fenton’s time to smile victoriously. “I guess I’m not the only one who gets easily distracted.” 

The song came to its slow end. Fenton turned back to his dancing partner and was caught off guard by the look of defeat painted across her face. Other villains usually cursed at the sky and declared they’d be back to rue Gizmoduck’s day, but Gandra was just quiet, looking as if she was somewhere far away. Before Fenton could say anything he was suddenly pulled to his feet. He felt her hands leave him before there was a sudden flash of blinding light. 

Fenton wasn’t the only one blinded by the flash bomb as other guests nearby called out in shock. The social atmosphere had been torn to shreds as guests started to panic. Thankfully the flash bomb had only been a mild one, Fenton’s vision returning within a few seconds, yet Gandra Dee could no longer be found anywhere in sight. 

**Author's Note:**

> I did not edit this an awful lot so sorry if I wrote anything redundant lmao. I have a feeling my characterisation of Gandra may be a little inconsistent but I had fun writing this so what's the crime really?


End file.
